The Verse Frog

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Here's a different approach from me. I have tried to sum up a quote in the movie Julius Caesar into this verse. I have changed my usual rhyme scheme in this poem, and tried to make it short, both in length and width, to add some versatility in my poetry. I hope you enjoy it.

The quote is said by Pompey Magnus to Sulla, when asked about his opinion on Caesar (according to the movie).

Choosing friends

Who censure youwith no pretense,to make them friendsis indeed sense.

Their words may seemcruel to hear,but they do speakwith hearts sincere.

Who smile at youdo naught, but flatterof them beware!You'd know better.

Great men have lostnot by enemy's strife;but were struck downby a turncoat's knife.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

I decided, to convert this funny experience I had some time back, into a poem. The 'Mr. A' over here actually refers to Mr. Bhushan (one of my uncles), who has a great sense of humor. I occasionally hang out with him and his family on holidays on his farmhouse at a remote village, away from the city life.

Mr. A, a man with wealth and charmin far off village, he bought a farm.

About his arrival he went to apprisethe village elders, supposedly wise.

One elder invited him, at dusk to dine.He said, 'to serve you, the pleasure is mine'.

At dinner that night the elder did warn,"Every new moon night, near your barn

Your farm is haunted, warned you be,By accursed female spirits three.

Those three died long ago some day,At your very own farm, Mr. A

Many have heard their ghostly croon.You mustn't wander on night of new moon"

Mr. A in fact a well known playboy,Considered this tale for a moment coy.

“Thank you sir for your kind concernThis was important for me to learn.

Pray do me favor, tell village menShould they chance to see those three again,

Tell those ghost women, that Mr. AHas come to their place for prolonged stay

Having known this fact, those three will soonAmend their schedule of nights, new moon.

The village would need not, anymore fright.They'll come for my sake, every night"

Thursday, October 8, 2009

My first poem in this blog is the fist poem I wrote. It was long time back in school, and i lost the original copy of it long time back. This is a prototype I recreated of it from sheer memory. Hope you'll excuse the lack of imagination since it was my first attempt at poetry back in school days. The following is a true story.

Historical note:Genghis's khan's brother's name is not 'K'...i forgot the real name and was too lazy to search for it...so picked a random mongol name (specifically from the Age of empires pc video game). Also in actual story it might not have been the tuna fish, but i don't know exactly what kind of fish swims in mongol rivers so i made that up too. Rest of the story is a historical fact.

Lion's rule

Long ago in the Mongolian landwhere sun burns over plains of sandthere were tribes of different kindwho battled each other from time to time.

And so as per the story longOne of these tribes, among,was born a boy called Temujinand we all knew what he grew up in.

One day Temujin with his spear, went along a local river,to hunt a fish so that he could have it as his evening food.

And thus to fill his evening dish,came flipping along a tuna fish.Little did the tuna know,of its hunter and so,

It came swapping its joyous fin,under the shadow of Temujin. Young Temujin struck his spearand it cut across the tuna's rear.

He picked up the fish, and indeed,placed it along a nearby weed,and went to the river with his spear and knifeto claim another marine life.

But then to spoil the hunting game,his elder brother Kushluk came,and sneaked up from the hill behind,like a villain cat with wicked mind.

He eyed the tuna with an evil smirk,to reap the fruit of his brother's work, and hence according to the plan he hatched,crawled up the weed, the fish he snatched.

But, before the fish he could salt,Temujin came up and said "Halt!,Elder brother, with all respect due, return my fish, I say to you."

I began writing poems in early school days. However, several of my likable compositions we lost along the years. Some were written in books which, eventually got misplaced. Other poems which were on my PC, were lost during a series of PC problems that compelled me to format my hard drive. Since then I gave up on poems and had been abstaining from poetry for over 2 years.

Now having revived myself at my old quirk, I think publishing all my poems here will be the best safeguard against losing any more of my works. Indeed, poetry for me is nothing less than a quirk as my folks describe me as an insensitive and irresponsible spoiled brat, who has no taste in any kind of art. And not many people disagree with that opinion. But some how, with my father being a respectable poet in our periphery, I just couldn't escape the hereditary propensity towards poetry.

I admit that my poems do lack all the imagination that poets like Bierce and Yeats infuse their efforts with. But after all, I write poems to amuse myself, and not for others. Most of my poems are about memorable stories I have heard or instances which I would like to recall to people. Most often they are devoid of any deeper meaning.